Page 84 of Session 33

That’s how I found myself sitting on Dr. Reed’s couch again, gripping the pillow in my lap. She watched me with her usual calm, patient expression. “What’s going on, Angel?” she asked gently.

“Cassius is mad at me,” I started, the words falling out like broken glass. “On the phone I told you about the camping trip. About Silas?” She nodded, so I pressed on. “But after all that, Cassius saw the threatening messages Solomon was sending me. I thought I could handle it myself, so I hadn’t told him it had been going on for weeks. I thought if I just ignored it long enough, it would stop.”

I hated the way my voice broke on the last word, hated how weak it made me feel to admit that Cassius’s silence was breaking me. I shouldn’t even care—not after what he’d done to me, not after the nights I cried myself to sleep because of him, not after he abandoned me. But I do, and it pisses me off because no matter how much I tell myself I’ve moved on, his opinion still feels like it matters.

Dr. Reed leaned forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees. “Why didn’t you tell him, Angel?”

“Because I was scared of what he’d do,” I admitted. “Cassius... he doesn’t think before he acts. I didn’t want to make things worse.”

She nodded like she already knew. “So, you were trying to protect him, too?”

“Yes. I was trying to protect him—from himself, from his anger, from what I knew he was capable of if pushed too far.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing,” I said quietly. “But now... it feels like everything’s just ruined. Like no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

Dr. Reed leaned back in her chair, her expression thoughtful. “It sounds like Cassius is trying to protect you, too, Angel. Maybe his anger is coming from a place of fear—fear that he could lose you, or that you’d put yourself in harm’s way to avoid involving him.”

“So, you think this is my fault?” I asked, sharper than I intended.

“I didn’t say that,” Dr. Reed said calmly. “I think you’re both acting out of fear instead of trust. You care about each other—that’s clear—but you’re letting fear drive your decisions, and it’s creating distance between you.”

I looked down at my hands, the truth of her words settled heavy in my chest. “I don’t know how to fix it,” I whispered. “It feels... broken, all the way broken.”

Dr. Reed’s voice softened. “Do you still have feelings for Solomon?”

I shook my head. “No. Not at all.”

“And do you trust Cassius?”

“Yes,” I said immediately. That part was easy. I trusted him with Ekon, with our son. With our friends. With me, though? With my life, yes. With my heart, no. That was the part I couldn’t say out loud.

“Then tell him,” she said simply. “You can’t make him forgive you. But you can be honest. Tell him why you made the decisions you did. Tell him you trust him and that’s not the reason you didn’t tell him. Let him process that in his own time.”

I swallowed hard, her words sinking in. “I just want us to be okay,” I said, my voice small. “Even if we’re not together, I want us to be good for Ekon.”

Dr. Reed smiled gently. “That’s a good place to start. Take it one step at a time. Start with honesty. Start with trust.”

When I left her office, I didn’t have all the answers, but I felt better because at least I was trying to find them.

Chapter seventy three

"So you're really not gonna talk to me, for real, Cassius?" I asked, my voice laced with irritation.

He didn’t even pause the game. Just glanced at me, expression blank, and then turned back to the screen like I wasn’t standing there. Like I wasn’t right here.

That stung.

I clenched my fists, frustration boiling over. I wanted to punch his ass right in the fucking eye. Instead, without another word, I stomped up the stairs, my mind racing as I paced the floor of the guest bedroom. Every day, the same shit for two weeks. I tried to do what the therapist told me—let him get over it at his own pace, give him space, let him cool off—but I was at my breaking point.

I needed him to listen. Really listen. And if he wouldn’t listen to my words, I was going to do something drastic.

The doorbell rang, interrupting my thoughts. I heard Silas’s loud ass come in.

Without thinking too hard about it, I stripped out of my clothes. Everything. I caught my reflection in the mirror. My breath feltshaky, uneven, but I forced myself to stand tall. If this doesn’t get his attention, nothing will.

With a steadying breath—in, out—I coached myself before leaving the room. I walked downstairs. When I reached the living room, Cassius was still glued to the TV, one arm draped over the back of the couch like he didn’t have a care in the world.

Silas noticed me first, his eyes widening slightly, and then—of course—his mouth opened. “Damn, Angel,” he muttered, his tone a mix of shock and humor. “You got some pretty-ass titties.”

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